The Ties That Bind
by Writermonkie
Summary: Collection of Oneshots that vary in time and genre. CH1 Moves Like Jagger- not a songfic. Castle decides to wake up Beckett in a very creative manner. Fluff.


**A/N So, this is going to be a collection of random oneshots. They will shift in time and range from fluff, angst, romance, whatever. They will delve deeper in to all of the characters and their connections to each other.**

**First up: Fluff**

**Rating:T**

**Timeline: Future, established Beckett/Castle relationship **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or the lyrics below**

**Moves Like Jagger **

"_I don't need to try to control you. Look into my eyes and I'll own you, with them moves like Jagger. I've got them moves like Jagger." _

Poppy, over the top in volume, music met her disapproving ear drums as she rolled over groggily to glance at the alarm clock, which, she noted had yet to go off. 6 a.m. She let her arm fall onto the left side of her bed, already anticipating the cold vacancy that she found there.

"_I've got them mooooooveees like Jagger."_

She was going to kill him. Hell, her neighbors were probably going to kill him. Groaning, she dragged her protesting body out of bed and started towards the kitchen, which was the source of the ear numbing tunes. She paused by her bedside table long enough to grab the handgun that was tucked in her top drawer. Just for affect.

If he was lucky.

"What the hell are you do….?"

Her mouth effectively stopped working as soon as her eyes digested the sight before her.

Richard Castle, in all his glory, froze mid hip shake in front her stove. Spatula in hand, radio blaring in the background, he was free style dancing in a pair of gray athletic socks. Only a pair of gray athletic socks.

"What are you doing?" She managed to choke out, her voice strained from trying to quell the bubble of laughter that was threatening to burst free from her throat.

His face broke out in a joyous, childish smile, eyes dancing.

"Making breakfast." He answered nonchalantly, motioning towards the omelets cooking in a pan on her stove.

"Naked?" She asked, pursing her lips in an attempt to disguise her smile, one eyebrow curving upwards mockingly.

"I'm wearing socks." He responded innocently, dropping his gaze to his feet.

She just bit her lip and shook her head softly. The humorous glint in her eyes changed swiftly to one of curiosity as she focused on his feet.

"Are those my socks?"

"Yup."

"Why…?"

"There were clothes everywhere, as I'm certain you remember…" He said suggestively, shrugging his shoulders. "I just grabbed them so my feet wouldn't be cold." He flexed his toes for further emphasis.

"Of course." She responded mockingly, rolling her eyes in his direction.

He danced back over to the stovetop, sliding dramatically in her socks on the smooth wood floor and flashing her a toothy grin over his shoulder. He plopped the omelets on two plates and shimmied his way back over.

"I call it Naked Breakfast." He declared proudly, handing her a plate.

"Mmmm… Burroughs would be proud." She responded, letting her smile finally slip out to overtake her features.

He widened his eyes at her in mock disbelief and unadulterated amazement before responding, "Katherine Beckett, that is the sexiest thing I have ever heard you say."

She nodded slowly, taking a step towards him and letting her eyes flick torturously over his features.

"I think our food needs time to cool down, don't you?" She murmured, taking the plate from his hand and setting it down on the table beside them.

"Whatever do you have in mind, Detective Beckett?" He asked softly, lightly running a finger over her cheek bone. In a split second, her body was pressed to his, her hands entangled in his hair, her lips hot against his own.

Mornings with Richard Castle were certainly far from ordinary.

**A/N: I'm almost disgusted in myself for how ridiculously fluffy this is. But hey, everyone can use a little lightheartedness over the hiatus, right?**

**For those of you that giggled like a schoolgirl at the Burroughs reference, my inner Lit major dances in circles of joy.**

**For those that have no clue what the hell I'm talking about: Burroughs wrote a book called Naked Lunch.**

**Naked Lunch. Naked Breakfast. Funny? No? Oh well, it made me smile. =] **

**Reviews?**


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